


Sundays and Sons, Picnics and Pops

by impossiblepluto



Series: Project Gemini [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gemini AU, Gen, Parental Jack Dalton, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, child!Mac (except not because the child is AJ)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: There’s a part of Jack that would like to say he didn’t hesitate. Bound by duty, responsibility, and his Wookie life debt, he took up this mission without pause knowing it was the right thing. Because Mac asked him. Because in some strange way this boy is Mac.A continuation of violetvaria's incredible Gemini 'verse Father's Day Fic,Days and Dads, Surprises and SonsA slice of life sequel to Project Gemini alongside violetvaria's Gemini AU
Series: Project Gemini [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817443
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	Sundays and Sons, Picnics and Pops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetvaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [violetvaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria). Log in to view. 



> It is absolutely essential to read violetvaria's "Days and Dads, Surprises and Sons" as this story starts seconds after that story ends. Thank you so much for playing in this sandbox with me V!
> 
> Oh, and you should probably read Project Gemini so you know what this AU is all about.

AJ’s breath tickles as he nudges closer into the juncture of Jack’s neck and shoulder. Tiny arms squeezing tight and holding on. Jack doesn’t think he’d be able to pry the boy away, not that he’d ever want to try. These snuggles are precious. A gift he’d long given up hope on ever being his. 

“How’d you get to be so smart?” Jack asks, wrapping his arms around AJ’s small frame, cradling him closer. 

“I’ve always been. You just didn’t know me then,” the words are muffled against Jack’s skin and they give him pause. This quiet confidence in AJ’s voice. Speaking truths. AJ knows he’s smart. Has always been smart. And he knows that Jack loves him. Jack hopes he knows that he’ll always love him. 

And he wishes for all the world, they’d found AJ sooner. 

It’s a familiar feeling, this deep crushing ache. This wistful wishing he’d met the boy sooner. He spent years longing for the same with Mac. 

That he’d been given a chance at undoing the hurt left behind by a lifetime of abandonment, whether by fate or by choice, sooner than life allowed. Before that hurt had a chance to take root and alter Mac’s perception of himself. A chance at undoing the hidden damage that until just a few weeks ago, with the discoveries in James and Ellen’s labs, neither of them had any idea ran so deep. 

Mac, of course, knows he’s smart. Brilliant. That he can think circles around most people. That doesn’t stop him from worrying that he’s not enough. His self-worth so closely tied with his ability to think, to be useful. And deep down, Mac knows he’s loved. Jack has to believe that, or he’d never be able to continue running. But he also knows that Mac forgets that truth. He gets lost. Trapped in his big brain, the same one that Jack has trusted for years to save them, also tries to hurt Mac. Like a buried IED in the desert sand, Mac’s brain is riddled with snares designed to maim and destroy. 

Over the years, Jack has learned to disarm them, but sometimes they still stumble over one, buried so deeply no one realized it was hidden there, waiting for them.

The discovery of the labs and AJ was sure to set off a chain reaction that Jack has no hope of stopping. Not from half a continent away. It’s moments like this where he… 

Where he... what? 

Wishes Mac had run with them? Three people are harder to hide than two. Especially two men and a child. That would sentence them to a lifetime on the run, leaving behind Bozer and Riley forever. If anyone is going to decipher the formulas and clues left behind in the labs it’s Mac. If anyone can neutralize the risk to AJ it’s Mac. 

Sending Mac and AJ off alone while he hunted the threat makes Jack’s pulse skyrocket with worry. Mac is great with kids. He can’t wait for the chance to see Mac and AJ in action together, two blond heads pouring over an experiment, though that thought makes Jack’s heart race as well. But Mac has his own hurts that still need healing, and asking him to raise a child, raise himself… it starts getting more twisted and complicated than the ethics of a bad sci-fi movie. 

After the kill squad was sent to Mac’s house, Jack knew AJ would never be safe in LA. There was no question they had to run. And no way that either one of them would trust AJ’s safety to anyone else.

Which left Jack. 

There’s a part of Jack that would like to say he didn’t hesitate. Bound by duty, responsibility, and his Wookie life debt, he took up this mission without pause knowing it was the right thing. Because Mac asked him. Because in some strange way this boy is Mac. 

There’s another part that knows it’s not true. And doesn’t want it to be. He hesitated. His heart lodged in his throat. A part of him that raged against Mac’s request the moment he heard it. That knew the sacrifice Mac was asking him to make. That was also bound by duty, responsibility, and his Wookie life debt. Because this boy isn’t Mac, no matter what DNA mapping claims. 

But Mac asked. He knew what it would cost them, all of them, and he asked Jack. 

Mac didn’t ask for much. Sure, he was always asking for Jack’s phone or his shoelaces or his TAC knife, but when it mattered, Mac rarely made a request, and almost never for himself.

Even this, framed as though this was truly what Mac wanted for himself, wasn’t for him. Claiming that AJ was him and he was AJ

Jack wanted to argue, did argue. 

Couldn’t argue. 

His mind raced. Burning with grief at the prospect of losing Mac again. Leaving him behind again. His heart ached.

Jack looked into those blue eyes he knew so well, and protested. And Mac found his weakness. Didn’t have to look very far for it. 

Because somehow, those were the same blue eyes that he woke up to that morning, staring down at him curiously, that decided in an instant to trust him. And Mac asked Jack to do what had been ingrained in him for nearly a decade. Protect. 

Protect this version of Mac. Help him heal. Give him a chance at a life that Mac had never been given. 

And Jack, selfishly, thought maybe he’d finally been given a gift that had been his wish for all those years he protected Mac, to save him before he’d endured a childhood full of hurt. 

There’s tension creeping across AJ’s shoulders, down his arms that still wrap around Jack’s neck, but he’s no longer holding on. His body stiffens. He’s more tactile than Mac ever was. Still slow to initiate contact unless his defenses are lowered by exhaustion, but quicker to return a hug. He’ll allow Jack to carry him, hold him. He rarely pulls away like Mac would, but Jack has realized that he does have his limits. Muscles becoming rigid, indicating he’s done but unsure if he’s allowed to break the contact. 

There are minefields with AJ too. Jack thought, with his Mac-wrangling experience, that he’d be better at reading AJ’s tells, avoiding pitfalls. Maybe it allows him to identify the harbinger of trouble before it reaches a meltdown but some days it feels like he’s starting from scratch. 

Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. Blinking back tears that threaten to spill over. Jack burrows his nose in AJ’s hair, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of the baby shampoo he uses to wash the boy’s hair. 

Reluctantly, Jack releases his grip on AJ, lowering to the floor and leans back. The unease fades from AJ as soon as he’s released.

Jack tugs the baseball cap down on the boys’ head, covering his eyes, allowing himself a second to regain his composure. The boy is perceptive to his moods and he doesn’t want AJ to think for a moment that he’s not absolutely thrilled by the gift or experiencing regrets. 

“Jack!” AJ protests, giggling, tipping his head backward to look out from under the brim. “I can’t see.” He yanks the hat off his head, causing his fluffy blond locks to stand on end, like soft downy feathers on a yellow duckling. 

Jack barely resists cooing. 

“Here, let me help,” Jack reaches out, ruffling his hand through AJ’s hair. 

AJ laughs harder, tripping over his feet as he ducks away from Jack’s hand. “Stop! You’re messing it up.” Both hands come up to his head, smoothing wayward locks and batting Jack’s hand away. 

“Alright, enough preening,” Jack teases, brushing bangs off AJ’s forehead before looking him square in the eye. “You ready for the final walkthrough?”

AJ gives one last swipe to his hair, nodding solemnly. The last of his giggle bursts dissipating. He takes his duty as Jack’s right hand man seriously. He tugs his cap on and scampers to the back of the room, waiting for Jack to follow.

Jack’s been working on instilling some basic survival skills. He’s already imitating Jack anyway, sweeping an unsecured room as soon as they enter, and clocking the available exits and camera lines of sight. A final walkthrough of their accommodations is not only good practice - they don’t have many belongings and most of them stay in the car unless they’re staying somewhere for longer than one night, but they would hate to lose a single item - it also helps AJ prepare to get buckled in for yet another long car ride. The boy doesn’t have many examples of stability in his life. While Jack tries to follow a semblance of a schedule for meals and bedtimes, their current lifestyle doesn’t allow for much in the way of habits and rituals. 

They always start at the back of the room and work their way forward, cleaning away the few traces of their presence that they can. If someone really wanted to find evidence they stayed here, they wouldn’t even need to be a skilled forensic investigator to do it, but no sense making it too easy to be followed. 

AJ jumps up, flicking on the bathroom light before picking up the used towels and shaking them. Ensuring that wayward socks and underwear hadn’t become entangled. 

Jack checks the hook behind the door. He gathers the remaining unused toiletries from the stock on the sink, plus the instant coffee grounds and shelf-stable creamers, and the cups, both plastic and styrofoam. 

“Bathroom check?” Jack asks.

“Check,” AJ replies. 

“And bathroom check?”

AJ pauses for a moment, face screwed up in concentration. Then shakes his head. “Check.”

“You sure? Maybe you should try to take a leak again before we go.”

“Jack,” AJ flushes.

“It’s a long car ride. Not that I’m not willing to stop if you need, but I’d like to put some distance in before we need a bathroom break.”

“I just went,” AJ says indignantly. “Do you need to take a leak?” 

“Nah, I guess we’re both good.”

AJ raises an expectant eyebrow.

“Right. Sorry. Check.” Jack replies seriously, hiding his smile from his small charge. Little blond eyebrows, wiggling and waggling, and not for the first time Jack wonders about the boy he’s going to return to Mac with someday, the unique combination of Mac’s face and Jack’s expressions. 

They systematically clear the room. Checking under the used blankets, in the closet, and dresser drawers.

“Chargers?”

Jack eyeballs the outlets again, just to make sure. “Chargers check. Sleep sack?”

“Check,” AJ says, zipping closed his backpack. Struggling to slide the straps over his shoulders. “Refrigerator?” 

“Check. And fresh ice added to the cooler,” Jack says, slamming the door shut after one last peek. “AJ?”

“AJ, check,” the boy’s voice rings out with a note of amusement. “Jack?”

“Jack, check,” Jack says, slowly turning to look through the room one last time as he picks up the heavy cooler and his own backpack. “Alrighty then, buckaroo. Let’s bounce.”

Having received his marching orders, AJ hops to the door, leaping over the threshold and bouncing down the sidewalk to the car parked at the far end of the lot, checking to make sure Jack is following him. 

“Want to hop in first?” Jack asks, knowing the boy will protest, but he can’t help asking. Getting AJ safely squared away makes the rest of the packing up so much easier - stowing away their newly added supplies of coffee filters, pens, and an extra stolen washcloth into the carefully arranged Rubbermaid containers in the trunk. This parking lot isn’t particularly crowded and they appear to be the first occupants of the motel getting a jump on the Sunday morning stillness. There’s always the fear that AJ will wander into the path of or be snatched by an oncoming car. 

AJ spins, looking at Jack and stills, objections dying on his lips. His head cocked to one side, studying Jack’s face and he bites his lip. 

Jack keeps his expression neutral, wondering what the boy is looking for.

“Do I - do I have to?” AJ’s voice is quiet, small and now Jack does allow his lips to turn in a small frown, wondering if this is going to be a day where AJ fights him on the car seat. A day when the restrictions on his movement distress him. Maybe the hug from earlier was too long and pushed him over the edge. 

“No, not yet,” Jack says slowly, considering what he wants to say. Trying to stop a potential temper tantrum before it has the chance to start. Raising kids is more difficult than he thought. 

“I wandered off,” AJ looks down at the ground for a moment before facing his guardian. “Yesterday.” He lowers his voice, confessing his transgression, just in case Jack managed to forget. “Twice.”

Of course, AJ is wondering if this is still part of the consequences of wandering off yesterday

Two infractions of the rules in one shopping trip. 

Jack tries to keep the car and particularly the car seat separate from any discipline if he can. Waiting until they hit a rest stop where AJ is free from its confinement before enforcing a time out, but sometimes that’s not possible. He hadn’t really considered getting AJ loaded into the car before the groceries yesterday a punishment, but thinking back it was framed as such, and that was how AJ saw it. 

AJ is generally a good kid, any misbehaving on his part generally stems from a lack of understanding of the world, which Jack can’t fault him for, or natural curiosity. Which Jack doesn’t want to stifle. Wandering off is his most common lapse in judgement. Usually, a mild scolding is more than enough for AJ to see his error. 

“Yeah, and we’ve talked about why that can be dangerous.”

AJ nods.

“And you held my hand for the rest of the shopping trip and got in the car when I asked you to.” Jack pauses and cocks his head. “When was that?”

“Yesterday!” AJ exclaims, looking up with his face twitching in concern at Jack’s forgetfulness. 

“Seems to me, that means the situation is over and done with then. Today’s a new day.”

“Oh.”

“Unless you want to get in the car first.”

“No!” 

“Okay then,” Jack says simply. The matter settled. Maybe raising a kid isn’t so hard after all. That went pretty smoothly.

“Are you sure?” AJ bites his lip. 

Jack wonders again what AJ’s life was like before his rescue from the lab. He squats down beside AJ, looking him in the eye, trying to think of his own pop and how he would have handled this. 

“Alright, listen, Smalls, I know you do your best but there’s a big world out there, full of really cool stuff, and you haven’t been given your fair share of time getting to see it yet. I promise to try making that up to you. I know you do your best, and that sometimes you’re gonna mess up. Like I said, we took care of that yesterday. If wandering off is something we need to keep talking about because it keeps happening then we might need to readjust our consequences, but I’m not going to punish you today for something that we’ve already talked about.”

AJ watches Jack’s face for a moment before nodding.

“Okay,” Jack nods too. “Can I give you a hug? Only if you want to.”

AJ takes a small step closer, allowing Jack to wrap his arms around him. Squeezing tight for a moment and then letting go. 

“Stick close to the car, while I finish up,” Jack warns. “It’s still a parking lot.” 

While Jack adds and arranges the rest of their baggage to the vehicle, AJ keeps moving. Pulling off his baseball cap, he tosses it in the air and catches it a few times before plopping it back onto his head. He cautiously places one foot in front of the other, as though he was balancing hundreds of feet in the air, not bouncing along the white painted lines in the blacktopped lot. 

Jack smiles softly and his heart pangs. He hates how much time AJ spends confined in the car when he should be running and jumping and climbing trees all day. He’s lucky AJ is so even-tempered and easily entertained. 

Probably comes from being raised in a lab, without much in the way of entertainment. Jack shuts down that potential hazard before his brain has a chance to chew on it further. Now is not the time to allow those pensive thoughts to steal away his absolute delight for the gift AJ gave him and the reason behind it.

“Hey, Wiggleworm, do me a favor,” Jack points at a tree, about fifty yards away in the freshly mowed field next to their car. “Run out to that tree and back?”

AJ turns his face up toward Jack in befuddlement. 

“I want to see if you’re faster than you were last week.”

AJ looks towards the tree, back at Jack, and then out to the tree again. The potential inaccuracy of the test - how can Jack tell that this tree is the exact same distance away as the one he ran to the other day? - is warring with the boyish desire to run. Run as fast as he can. Compete with himself over his speed.

“Go, clock’s ticking,” Jack interrupts the impending argument and AJ takes off like a shot, unable to resist the challenge. Jack smiles, leaning against the car and watching AJ’s legs flying over the terrain, an idea sparking in his brain.

“Was I faster, Jack?” AJ asks, leaping the final few feet to the finish line.

“I think you were,” Jack congratulates.

The boy beams, then his mouth curls with suspicion, remembering his earlier unvoiced concern. “How can you be sure?”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, we’re gonna be hanging out at our next stop for about a week or more. We’ll set up some markers so we know you’re running the same distance every day and I’ll time ya on a stopwatch so we know we’re gathering accurate data.”

AJ’s eyes light up with delight and Jack’s not sure if he’s more excited by the prospect of staying somewhere more than a day, the opportunity to run every day, or the idea of analyzing data. It’s probably the data. He is a MacGyver. 

“Hey Flash, you still have that map I gave you yesterday.”

Nodding, AJ leans into the car, sticking his hand into the seatback pocket, pulling out an atlas. He flips it open finding the map Jack is asking about and hands it over.

Unfurling it, Jack scrubs the scruff on his chin as he runs a finger across the map. 

“What are you looking for?” AJ worms under Jack’s elbow to get a better look.

“Just checking out our route,” Jack says, holding back a smile. AJ loves being part of planning their itinerary. “We might need to make a little detour. And I think we forgot a few things at the store yesterday.”

AJ frowns. “But we had a list.” 

“I think I forgot to put a few things on it though,” Jack says, pulling out his pay-as-you-go phone, hoping to find an answer to his question and solidify his spur of the moment plan. He looks up as AJ makes a small sound of distress. His lips pulling down into a frown. 

The boy takes their lists and shopping trips seriously. He enjoys them, loves watching people, the opportunity to experience new sights, smells, and textures, but he squares his shoulders before entering the store like he’s steeling himself for a military invasion. Maybe he picked up on Jack’s anxiety that comes from the crowded space full of milling people, cameras, and the possibility of being noticed. 

“No, AJ, I’m sorry, we didn’t forget anything, don’t worry about that, okay? I just had an idea that I didn’t plan for when we made the list, and I wanted to try to keep it a surprise for you. The same way you wanted the hats to be a surprise for me.”

“Oh,” AJ cants his head, considering and then nods.

“Think you’re up for another shopping trip today?”

AJ grins and promises, “I’ll hang onto the cart. I won’t wander away.”

“Good boy,” Jack praises.

And he does. 

Mostly.

Jack keeps a careful eye on the boy, watching as his steps slow and head swivels. He pauses before displays that intrigue the boy, allowing for exploration. Clearing his throat when he notices distracted little fingers loosening their grasp on the metal frame. AJ ducks his head sheepishly at how easy it is for him to forget the rules.

“Just call out if there’s something you want to investigate, Blue’s Clues.”

AJ watches in confusion as Jack makes his selections and Jack merely grins at him, telling him it is part of the surprise and tugs the baseball cap down over AJ’s eyes again as a distraction as he adds a few more items to the cart. 

Sundays are good driving days. The roads usually empty in the morning, traffic doesn’t pick up until closer to noon, allowing them a few solid hours of leisurely driving. Jack will roll down the windows and sing along with the radio and AJ is starting to pick up some of the words, even correcting some of Jack's humorous lyrical mistakes. There’s a weird thrill of pride and burst of sadness when that happens. Jack wonders if his life will always be filled with these bittersweet moments and tries not to dwell on them. 

Jack always plans to be heading away from the next biggest city by early afternoon, so they don’t become snarled in a crush of weekend warriors heading home in time to return to their soul-sucking jobs on Monday morning. 

The two lane country road twists and turns through a copse of cedar trees, Jack slows, watching for the brown signage that will direct him to their destination, and he’s grateful for it because he almost missed it. Tucked behind an old cornfield, the driveway disguised by a dilapidated barn, is a park. A few acres at most. 

A wide but slow flowing river creeps along the back boundary line. 

Three baseball diamonds, two tennis, and one basketball court, a couple of swings, and a single metal slide. 

And best of all, not a soul in sight. 

The exact type of park Jack was hoping to find. A neighborhood secret, and easily forgotten as a destination for Father’s Day by families looking for more entertainment, possibly a swimming hole - which Jack is definitely going to plan into their travels sooner rather than late, now that he’s thought about it- fancier playground equipment, or more picnic and grilling options.

“You wait until the car is off before you jump out of your seat,” Jack warns as he feels AJ’s excitement building. 

AJ nods, bouncing as much as the car seat allows him, craning his neck to look outthe window. 

Halfway across the field, Jack sees what he was looking for, that would make or break his scheme. A few permanent, wrought-iron, county-maintained grills secured to concrete slabs, scattered next to picnic tables. 

Jack parks and AJ unsnaps his seat belt as soon as the engine is off. He pops up, wrapping his arms around the headrest of the driver’s seat, leaning over Jack’s shoulder.

“What are we doing, Jack?”

“We are having a Father’s Day picnic.” Jack watches as AJ turns the phrase over in his head, waiting for the inevitable  _ why? _

“It’s something my family used to do on Father’s Day,” Jack continues when the question isn’t spoken aloud. “A tradition. Something we did every year when we celebrated. I think it’s something a lot of folks do for Father’s Day.”

The explanation doesn’t ease the contemplative look on AJ’s face. 

“Thought maybe we could start our own Father and Son’s Day picnic. You okay with that?”

AJ nods slowly, pulling himself further into the front seat, hanging on and nearly upside down as he stares up at Jack. “What’s a picnic?”

There are some moments where AJ is so mature, wise beyond his years, and brilliant beyond his age. When Jack forgets that AJ is a little boy, learning new words and ideas. He knows words like excursion, constellation, and cryogenic. And is tripped up by a vocabulary word that Jack takes for granted a five-year-old would know. No reason that AJ would know the word. No one from the lab was taking him on a picnic and they probably weren’t letting him watch PBS. 

“Should we try to figure it out?” Jack offers, searching for a balance between answering AJ’s questions and giving him a chance to reason it out for himself. 

“We’re at a park,” AJ says slowly, glancing up at Jack for assurance. “And we did extra shopping for things that weren’t on the list. Food things and other things that are for a surprise.” 

Getting AJ to take a guess, to voice his ideas continues to be a challenge. Jack encourages him to make a hippopotamus.

“Hypothesis, Jack,” AJ rolls his eyes and Jack just smiles and lets his words and actions prove his point. Assurances that it’s okay to guess and be wrong. It’s okay to learn from mistakes. Being incorrect isn’t unforgivable. 

It’s a concept Mac struggled with too, which Jack chalked up to his career choices. Mac held lives in his hands as he disarmed bombs. It was a lot of pressure for a nineteen year old to learn to live with. To continue to live with, as he moved from bomb nerd to government agent. From the fate of one neighborhood or squad of soldiers, to often holding the fate of the world in the palms of his steady hands. 

After meeting James, and especially now, knowing AJ, Jack realizes that Mac’s perception of his self-worth and the agony that crossed his face on the rare occasions when he was wrong was learned long before his stint in the army and came from a more insidious source. 

“Do you want to take a guess?”

AJ shrugs and Jack waits. Giving AJ all the time in the world. 

“We’re going to eat here?”

“We sure are!”

“Why?” 

“Because,” Jack hums. “Because eating a meal outside is different. Exciting. A way to celebrate.” 

“We eat in the car sometimes.”

“Yeah, I guess that could be considered a car picnic.” Jack supposes that living a life on the run, not being expected at the dinner table every night makes the idea of a picnic a little less exciting for a kid. 

“Okay.” 

AJ follows Jack out of the car, waiting patiently as Jack hands him items to carry. They scope out the best picnic table and grill, nestled between the playground and a baseball diamond with a clear line of sight to the parking lot. 

Jack consults his watch. It’s a little early to fire up the grill so he breaks out the first of his surprises, bat, a ball and two gloves, an adult and child-sized, and gestures for AJ to follow him.

He can’t believe he hasn’t done this before. He’s been so focused on the necessities, food, and a roof over AJ’s head that he’s forgotten about the extras. The things that make life worth living. 

Jack helps AJ slide on the glove, marveling at his tiny hand. So small and perfect. Strong and fragile. 

“It’s going to be kind of stiff,” Jack says, helping him open and close the glove a few times. “It’ll loosen up the more we play. Later, when we’re done, we’ll stick the ball in it, and tie it closed. That’ll help make a little pouch and easier to catch the ball when we play next.” 

Jack trots back a few steps, lobbing the ball towards AJ in a gentle arc. 

He gets his glove under it, but it bounces out and rolls across the grass, AJ scampers after it. 

“That’s alright. Toss it right here,” Jack pats the palm of his glove and holds it up. Bending his knees and getting ready to chase after a wayward throw.

AJ winds up. 

It flies straight and true, searing Jack’s glove when it lands. 

“Wow! You’ve got an arm on ya, short stuff.” Jack shakes out his hand, face filling with awe and pride. 

“I’ve got two,” AJ replies innocently, holding up both hands.

Jack howls and AJ raises an eyebrow. 

“Means that you’re really good at throwing a ball. Got a lot of power behind your throw.” 

He shouldn’t be surprised. 

Mac loves baseball, long legs eating up the outfield, or the baselines. His hand-eye coordination and reflexes are incredible. He can rattle off stats without hardly thinking. But Jack thinks what he adores the most is the math behind the game. He’ll mumble about vectors and velocity. Force and acceleration. Drawing mathematical equations in the dirt as he waits for his at-bat. 

Jack is sure that by the time the bat connects with the ball, Mac has already computed the angle and the distance it’s going to fly. 

He always teased that the kid should go work in a lab, or teach science in a middle or high school somewhere if he ever retired, but maybe he should have played baseball professionally. Jack can’t help but think that the world lost one of the baseball greats before they ever got the chance to see him in action. Maybe he wouldn’t have been the next Ruth, Mays, or Cobb, but he would have easily cemented his name in the baseball hall of fame. 

“Keep the bat up off your shoulder. Lower this elbow here. There we go, and follow through on your swing.” Jack stands behind the boy, adjusting AJ’s hands positioning and guides him through swinging the bat. “Perfect. Just like that.”

Jack jogs back a few steps, somewhere between home plate and the pitcher’s mound, tugging on his glove. “You ready, AJ?”

“Ready Jack!” AJ yells back. 

Jack lobs a gentle pitch over the plate. AJ swings and misses. 

“That’s okay,” Jack encourages as AJ chases after the wayward baseball. “Go ahead and throw it back.” The ball slaps Jack’s glove solidly. “Maybe we should have started with you pitching.”

AJ picks up the bat again, he wriggles back and forth, trying to remember the feel of his batting stance. “Like this?”

“Looks good. Does it feel alright? That’s important too. How it feels to you.”

“Um,” AJ bobs on his toes. “Yes. It’s good.”

“Alright. Here we go.” Jack sends another pitch over the plate. 

AJ swings and the ball skips along the bat, flying backward and hitting the fence.

“That’s alright, you got a bite of it that time,” Jack claps his pitching hand into his glove as AJ scrambles to grab the ball. 

“A bite?” AJ screws his face in confusion as he looks at Jack.

“Another expression. You got a little piece of it. Nicked it.” Jack bites his lip waiting for more questions, but AJ seems to accept his definition. Or he’s less interested in learning new vocabulary words with the prospect of playing more baseball.

AJ adjusts his stance again, fingers tightening on the bat, eyes narrowing. And Jack sees it, the instant AJ’s brain starts turning. It’s not just a game. It’s all angles and force and lift and velocity. It’s the same way Mac plays baseball. Watches baseball. The appeal of the numbers and the science.

This time when AJ swings he sends the ball soaring far into left field. 

“I did it!”

"Yeah, you did,” Jack cheers. “Now run to first base!”

AJ waffles, looking from his right to left at the two base options closest to him. “Umm…”

“To the left!”

AJ takes off.

“Other left!”

AJ bursts out laughing, feet tripping over each other as he turns sharply and runs in the other direction. “Other left is right, Jack.”

“Keep going!” Jack yells in glee, watching AJ round the bases as he trots backwards out to left field and scoops up the ball. He turns jogging slowly back to the infield, pride swelling in his chest, and swallowing thickly around the emotions lodged in his throat.

He remembers tossing a baseball or football around in the yard. His pop showing him how to grasp the laces to throw a spiral or a curve. Wandering up and down memory lane, his pop there for each milestone, whether Jack remembered them or not. Learning to drive, to ride a horse and a bike. Photographs of Jack Sr. beaming proudly as he helped Jack take his first steps.

Watching AJ round the bases, Jack wonders who was there teaching AJ to walk. Who held his hands and kept him upright while his toes danced and got a feeling for taking steps. Did anyone praise him when he pulled himself up on furniture? Did they kneel with arms open wide while AJ toddled to them? Pulling him into a hug when he reached them, kissing his cheek and blowing raspberry kisses while he giggled in delight. 

Who sang the alphabet with him? Taught him to read? Encouraged him as he sounded out words and stumbled over sentences? There must have been some softness in his life. Some kindness in the cold sterility of the lab. 

Are there photographs of him as a baby? The first time he ate solid food or slurped up spaghetti noodles. 

He’s saved from following these regrets further into melancholy as AJ hops the last step. Two feet landing solidly back on home plate and turning to grin at Jack. If there’s one thing he’s learned from his years with Mac, from these months with AJ, he can’t waste time on regrets. He can only move forward and love his boys. 

The sun rises, reaching its zenith before Jack calls the game, declaring AJ rookie of the year. Leading to another discussion of new vocabulary words and Jack making another promise to himself. This one that he’ll take AJ to a baseball game this summer. 

“Baseball, hotdogs, apple pie and Chevrolet,” Jack sings the old jingle, grabbing AJ’s hand as they walk back to the picnic table. “Or well… we’ve got the baseball part, at least. Brats and old Ford. We’ll make due.” 

“We improvise!” AJ’s voice rings out. 

“That we do,” Jack says as he carefully arranges the coals on the grate of the iron grill. 

Jack cringes as he places the tip of the match on the strike board. “This ain’t gonna…” he begins, before looking down at AJ. He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Ain’t gonna what?” The words that come out of AJ’s mouth are pure Texas which makes Jack giggle harder. AJ has taken to elongating a few of his vowels. Just certain words or phrases but hearing it come out of the kid’s mouth always leaves him chuckling. With as much talking as Jack does, poor kiddo’s got no chance at not picking up a drawl. Or eventually, as AJ learns to differentiate a colloquialism and a literal statement, picking up a few of those. 

He’s not sure if Mac is gonna laugh or murder him for that. Can’t wait to find out.

Speaking of…

AJ is still waiting on an explanation, face turned up in curiosity.

“Blow up in my face.”

AJ’s eyes widen.

“Nah, nah,” Jack waves aside the concern. “Back at home, in LA, at Mac’s house, he had a grill. And he was always fussin’ with it. Tweaking it. Trying to make it easier to use. Make it cook faster so we didn’t have to wait real long before we could eat. Cause sometimes, well, we’d get a phone call and have to go take care of something-”

“A mission,” AJ pipes up.

“Right. And we’d have to shut down the grill and not get to eat our lunch. So Mac tried thinking up ways of fixing that.”

“And they blew up?”

“Sometimes. More often, there was just a secret way that you’d have to start it up. Like push buttons in a certain order, but he’d forget to mention that he’d been working on it. Sometimes those flames got pretty high.”

AJ stares at the flames turning the coals gray. “Hmmm.”

“And a few times Bozer, you remember Bozer right?” 

AJ nods.”He’s my friend.”

Jack smiles. “Well Bozer, he singed his eyebrows clean off.”

AJ’s eyebrows climb into his hair.

“Poof! Gone. Just like that,” Jack snaps his fingers and laughs remembering Bozer’s shocked and indignant expression, that didn’t have quite the same effect without his eyebrows. 

“How did he do that?” 

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. That’s something you’ll have to ask him about someday.” Jack’s voice trails off as he notices AJ’s thoughtful expression. Staring at the flames, forehead wrinkled, betraying his thinking. 

“Oh, hey, hey,” Jack waves his hand, breaking AJ’s concentration. “You aren’t takin’ notes on this, are ya?”

AJ looks down at his hands, forehead wrinkling harder. “I don’t have a pencil.”

“No, I mean, you don’t have to try copying any of that stuff that Mac did, alright. No playing with fire. If we haven’t already talked about that one it’s a new rule.”

“But Mac-”

“Well, the kid was grown… mostly grown by the time he-”

“No, he wasn't,” AJ argues. “You said he burned down a football field when he was twelve. That’s only seven years older than me.”

“And maybe if he’d waited until he was a grown up, he wouldn’t have burned down the football field.”

AJ shrugs. “It sounds like he still burned things when he grew up though.” 

“Nevermind what Mac might have set on fire or not, I want you to promise me that you aren’t going to play with matches or start fires or make explosions-”

“Explosions?” AJ looks up in excitement. 

“No explosions, AJ. Promise me.”

AJ looks longingly at the dancing flames. “But Mac-” 

“AJ,” Jack’s tone is low and warning.

“I- I promise,” AJ says with reluctance and a sigh.

“Good boy,” Jack praises. “I’ll let you help me grill the brats though. Coals are just about ready. I’m gonna use some aluminum foil to cover the grate, cause who knows what this grill was last used for.” The flames were probably big enough when they started to burn off any germs or residual foodstuff left behind and if it was just him, Jack wouldn’t bother. But he’ll never risk AJ that way, always on edge that they’ll stumble across something that makes him sick. 

The thick sausages sizzle as soon as the heat hits them. AJ watches in fascination. He hasn’t had much of an opportunity to watch his food being cooked. 

“Mmm, smells good,” Jack says, inhaling deeply and smiling as AJ mimics. He lets AJ help him turn the brats over, cooking thoroughly. “Bet you built up quite an appetite playing all that baseball.” 

Jack helps AJ fill his plate and gets him settled on one side of the picnic table, AJ sits on his knees to help him reach. Jack loads his own plate before launching into a story. 

“Did I ever tell you about the time Mac and I were undercover in Milwaukee?”

“That’s in Wisconsin,” AJ replies around a large bite. 

“Yup. So there we were at the baseball stadium. And we got made. And we had to get out of there, fast or risk the thumb drive falling into the wrong hands. Except that all the exits were blocked and they knew what we looked like.”

“What did you do?” AJ swallows, eyes wide, engrossed in Jack’s story. 

“We tried blending in with the crowd but that didn’t work, they started chasing us. And I thought maybe we could disguise ourselves. We could find some spare uniforms and hide in the dugout with the team. So Mac was breaking into one of the locker rooms and I was watching his back.”

AJ scoots forward a little, listening intently.

“Except when we pulled open the door it wasn’t the player’s locker room.”

“What was it?”

“Well, this particular baseball team has a fun little tradition and takes their bratwursts very seriously. Before the bottom of the sixth inning, they have guys dressed in costumes. Eight foot tall sausages,” Jack holds his hand high above his head, indicated height. “The Famous Racing Sausages, just like what we’re eating here, and they race around the warning track.”

“What did you do?” AJ asks, a smile growing on his lips. He’s heard enough of these carefully edited stories to know how they end.

“What else could we do? They were closing in on us and we were about to get caught. So Mac and I grabbed the nearest costumes and pulled them on. He was dressed like a hot dog and I was the Italian sausage, cause I’m so spicy. I don’t know if he thought they were just gonna let us walk out of the stadium in these costumes without racing but he kept saying ‘we can’t race Jack.’

“And you ran a race as a sausage?”

“Do you know how hard it is to run in an eight foot tall sausage costume? Mac and I kept crashing into each other. Knocked a couple of the other sausages over too. But I heard we set a record that night for the fastest sausage race.”

“How did you get out.”

“We got to the end of the track and we just kept running.” 

Jack watches AJ tuck hungrily into his food. It’s the most he’s seen the boy eat in one sitting. There’s some nose scrunching and a tentative bite when Jack puts a scoop of potato salad on his plate. He was pretty sure AJ was going to refuse. The boy sighs, looking up at Jack, not wanting to disappoint him, and nudges the tiniest bite onto his fork. 

He doesn’t admit that he likes it, but he does accept a second spoonful. 

* * *

The boy is a golden tan, grinning widely and absolutely filthy. Jack scoops him up and presses a kiss into his sweaty hair. 

AJ in return plants a sticky, marshmallow kiss on Jack’s cheek. 

Making s’mores was the other surprise for the day. Roasting the marshmallows over the hot coals turned them a perfect crispy brown. And it’s so much easier to monitor their progress than over an open flame. Jack never had the patience to keep from burning his that way. 

AJ is meticulous. Jack hadn’t expected anything less. Carefully rotating the stick until there’s an even tan covering the sugary treat from all angles. And Jack knows he should set a better example and enforce limits, but watching AJ’s concentration while roasting the marshmallows and eating the s’mores is too adorable and Jack has a hard time denying the boy anything so he eats more s’mores than a five year old should be allowed. 

It’s a special day though. 

They stayed at the park later than Jack anticipated when he came up with the idea that morning, but he never wanted the day to end. 

Jack checks the mirror again, smirking. The boy was right, he checks those mirrors with obsessive regularity. It’s a good habit in his line of work and now, especially on the run. He’s certainly not going to stop, no matter if AJ rolls his eyes or not. He’s been on the receiving end or much more disdain-filled eye rolling. AJ is pretty cute about it. 

Besides, these regular checks allowed him an almost stop motion animation visual of AJ dropping off to sleep in the back. 

The wide eyes and beaming smile as Jack recounted the day with him. Praising AJ’ natural baseball abilities. The slow blinking as they talked about grilling their meal and made plans to do it again. And finally AJ’s head coming to rest against the window, bobbing with the rocking motion of the car, soothed to sleep by Jack’s soft singing. 

“Hey there, little man,” Jack brushes his finger against AJ’s cheek when they finally top for the evening. They didn’t get as far as Jack had hoped, but if Mac taught him anything over the years is that plans are made to be changed. And improvising makes the greatest memories. 

AJ frowns, batting at Jack’s finger, eyes remain firmly closed. Jack quietly debates waking him. It wouldn’t be the first time Jack carried him into a motel room, changed him in pajamas, and snuggled him into his sleep sack without ever waking him. But Jack wasn’t kidding. AJ is filthy from their outdoor adventures. A layer of dust clings to his arms and legs, despite the Wet Wipe in the car, there are still smudges of dirt on his face, and Jack is pretty certain some of AJ’s s’more made its way into his hair. 

And Jack wouldn’t care so much about him going to bed dirty, he's done that himself more than once, but the boy is a lot easier to wash and dry than his sleep sack is. Jack isn’t about to stuff him in there before having a bath and he doesn’t know if he’s ready to let AJ abandon the sack for the germy dangers of the room. 

“Sorry, Slugger,” Jack taps his cheek a bit more firmly. “We’re stoppin’ for the night.”

“Okay,” AJ murmurs, lifting his arms up for Jack to carry him indoors. 

Well, that’s the least Jack can do since he’s waking the boy up. 

Jack shoulders on their two overnight backpacks before scooping up AJ. He locks the car doors the old fashioned way. No fancy keyfob for this junker. The night air is cool and crisp and makes Jack long for a backyard and porch and a fire pit before he shoves that thought away. 

He’s too tired to allow himself a small daydream about what his kids might be up to today. If they thought of him at all.

That’s not really fair to them or to AJ. Despite how he feels, he's neither of their fathers. He shakes his head firmly, dislodging the thought, and unlocks the door to the motel. He pushes the door open and flips on the light, clearing the room and opening the small closet. AJ buries his head deeper in Jack’s chest.

“Hey, AJ,” Jack strokes the back of his head. “Let’s get cleaned up before bed.” He refrains from tacking on an “okay” at the end. Doesn’t want to give the boy a chance to decline. 

“You played pretty hard today,” Jack murmurs as he carries AJ into the bathroom, flipping on the light. AJ squints then opens his eyes, smiling softly at Jack. 

“‘T’s a good day.”

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?”

Jack turns on the shower, warming the water and the small room. He sits on the edge of the tub, AJ in his lap. “Arm’s up, big guy.”

AJ complies with a yawn and Jack pulls his t-shirt over his head. Blond hair sticking up in all directions and he can’t resist pressing another kiss to the boy’s temple. 

AJ rests his head against Jack’s chest, nuzzling closer. 

“Okay, let’s get you scrubbed up real quick and then tucked into bed.” 

AJ nods, leaning forward and helping Jack get him out of the rest of his dirty clothes. 

“Temperature okay?” Jack asks. AJ sticks his arm under the spray and nods. 

Jack plops him in the tub.

Standing under the spray, AJ blinks slowly and Jack can’t help but smile. He’s exhausted. Jack doesn’t know that he’s ever seen him this tired. 

Jack digs through the backpack for their bag of shared toiletries, finding the bottle of baby shampoo. He flicks open the cap and inhales the clean fresh scent, before squeezing a dollop into his hand. 

AJ’s head bobs and weaves with each gentle swipe of Jack’s hand through his hair. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, guppy.”

“‘M not.”

“Huh? Could have fooled me. Thought you were about to fall asleep standing up.”

“Horse-” a wide yawn cuts him off. “Horses sleep like that.”

“Yeah, what else does?” Jack scratches his fingers through AJ’s hair. It’s getting long. Curling softly at the ends.

“Hmm…. cows.“

Jack suds up a washcloth. “Want to take over for me while I wash your clothes?”

This catches AJ’s attention and his eyes open wider. “You’re going to wash my clothes in the shower?”

“Sure, why not. I still pop ‘em in when we hit a laundromat but for now, just to get some of the dirt and s’mores off ‘em.” 

AJ accepts the washcloth and Jack keeps half an eye on him while he does a thorough rinse of the clothes, hanging them to dry on the hook behind the door. 

“Finished,” AJ calls out. 

“Yeah? Did you wash behind your ears?”

AJ nods earnestly.

“Alright, let me see,” Jack gently turns the boy's head, folding back one ear. Then turns his head the opposite way to check the other one. Short of there being actual dirt cakes behind his ears, Jack’s not sure he’d be able to tell either way, but it’s something his mama would ask him and probably not a bad way to help AJ develop good hygiene habits.

“Looks good,” Jack says, lifting AJ out of the rub and wrapping him in a rough, bleach-white towel. Rubbing another through his hair. 

After dressing him in pajamas he parks AJ at the sink outside the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

“Two minutes,” he instructs before returning to the bathroom, keeping the door ajar and jumping into the shower himself.

Showering is one of many challenges that he didn’t foresee when he took on this mission. He doesn’t like showering while AJ is asleep, just in case the boy needs him or has a nightmare. And he doesn’t particularly like leaving him alone in the room while he’s awake either. He’s pretty sure the boy isn’t going to take apart the coffeemaker or stick something in the uncovered outlets, but Jack can’t help but worry. 

Luckily, from his long career in the Army, he’s mastered the two minute shower. Someday, when they’re finally home, Mac can watch AJ while Jack runs up a nice big water bill to make up for these short, unsatisfactory clean ups. 

AJ is turning off the water and flicking droplets off his toothbrush when Jack emerges from the shower dressed in soft sleep pants and a t-shirt. He brushes his teeth while AJ leans heavily against Jack’s leg. 

“You can go climb into bed,” Jack offers around a mouthful of toothpaste. “You don’t have to keep me company.” 

“I’m good,” AJ mumbles against Jack’s leg. “I’ll wait.”

“Giraffes sleep standing up too."  


“Mmmhh… and… elephants.”

Nighttime routine taken care of, Jack scoops AJ up and carries him to bed. 

“Did you have a good day today, Apple Jacks?”

“Yeah,” AJ’s nod is interrupted by another yawn as he snuggles into his sleep sack, eyes blinking slowly. Jack brushes damp bangs from AJ’s forehead and brushes a kiss against his hair. He’s probably going to be out before the lights are. So Jack is surprised when AJ mumbles his name.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, squirt?”

“Did you- did you ever have a Father’s Day picnic before?”

“Well, we did it for my pop,” Jack reminds AJ of the stories he told during lunch.

“No, I mean, for you?”

“Oh, well, I’ve never really… I’m not… No. No, this was my first.”

“This was my first too,” AJ says solemnly.

“Oh yeah? It was your first,” Jack’s hand finds its way back into AJ’s hair, ruffling it. “I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

“Me too, Jack.”

Jack flicks off the lamp, AJ snuggles closer, but Jack’s pretty sure it’s a reflex and the boy is already asleep.

“Sleep well, AJ. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Famous Racing Sausages are a staple at any Milwaukee Brewers home game. And maybe it's because baseball starts tomorrow, but I had a vision of Mac and Jack racing in those ridiculous costumes, and it had to be done.
> 
> Thanks so much for indulging me in this universe!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [violetvaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetvaria/pseuds/violetvaria) Log in to view. 




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